Rest in Peace

                       

     After eighty-five years on this earth, my father died March 5th, achieving a goal he had set for himself decades ago - "I'm going to live to be 85." An adventurer, life-long scholar, health conscious man with a can-do attitude, he lived a long, full life. Fortunately, he did not have to endure a prolonged period of suffering before he died.
     The last time I saw him, before visiting him in the hospice the day before he died, was at my son's funeral, five years ago. The difficult relationship between my father and I resulted in estrangement from one another for the past seven years. However, I am grateful for the many opportunities he offered me for personal growth - no regrets. And he excelled at being an Opa, throwing himself fully into that role with his five grandchildren. 
     Still enjoying downhill skiing a couple of months before he died, it was fitting that he was buried with his ski poles. May he rest in peace and fully experience love on the other side. I continue to send him mine.
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Significant Birthdays and Unexpected Gifts

 

     This week of significant birthdays, along with unexpected gifts, began with my mother's birthday on January 4th. Were she still living she would now be eighty-one years old. Looking to buy flowers for her memorial bench, and with the local shop where I usually bought them now closed, I stopped in at another neighbourhood store where I had see flowers for sale in the past. When I asked the clerk where they were, she told me they no longer carry cut flowers but that they still had some potted white poinsettias, then offered to give me one, no charge. As I approached the till, she insisted I take two, explaining that the bench would look much nicer that way. Such a thoughtful gift!
     Wednesday, I showed up for my weekly boot camp group class to discover that I was the only participant, and as a result, received the gift of a one-hour private session at the drop-in price. So lucky!
     Thursday, I stopped by an outdoor equipment store and when I arrived at the checkout, noticed a promotion - for each pair of snowshoes purchased, the buyer would receive a free snowshoe ticket valid for the Callaghan trails, an area I've never explored. I had given my husband snowshoes for Christmas and when I explained this to the cashier, he was happy to honour the promo. Sweet gift!
     Today is my son's birthday. He would be thirty, were he still here. This morning, I will be meeting up with a friend who also lives with the experience of losing a child. The gift of support from someone who understands. This evening, our family will gather for dinner at The Old Spaghetti Factory, as we have every January 8th since Michael died. The gift of each other as we carry on to the best of our abilities without our funny, loving, handsome guy.
     This week finishes out with my best friend's 60th birthday tomorrow. We will be celebrating a woman who has been an integral part of my life for close to forty years. A sister to me, an aunt to my children. The gift of a relationship I cannot imagine living without. Most precious, worth its weight in gold.
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A Shift in Perspective

     As the countdown begins for the 5th annual Mike Gibson Memorial Golf tournament, the weight of the loss of my son begins to intensify. Last year, recognizing the emotional investment required to organize this event left me wondering how many more MGMG tourneys I had left in me. Most people would assume (as I would without this personal experience showing me otherwise) that as time goes by, the emotional impact lessens. It is simply not so. 
     Thankfully, last spring, while contemplating the situation, I began reframing the experience and adjusted my perspective, much like The Hanged Man in the Tarot deck. Were Michael still alive, I would have continued expending a great deal of emotional energy in our relationship. Now, instead of spreading it out over the year, outside of the obvious trigger dates, much of it is condensed into these weeks leading up to the tournament. Since I am still in a relationship with him, albeit on another level, I accept that my ramped up feelings are par for the course. Working on the MGMG tourney is a meaningful expression of our relationship and I embrace the opportunity to continue organizing many more.
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Mizpah

I learned a new word today: mizpah.  I came across it while reading an online article posted on Death Cafe.  The word originated in the Bible and now connotes an emotional bond between two people who are separated (either physically or by death).  Up until now, I was unaware that a term used to describe this situation even existed.  Various scenarios involving mizpah come to mind. Parents sending a child overseas with hopes for a better future.  A best friend moving far away.  The death of a loved one.  It turns out that jewellery depicting this concept also exists, typically consisting of a coin-shaped pendant cut in two with a zigzag line.  A perfect image to hold onto for any being connected to another through mizpah.

Soul Connection

Today, I consider an elderly relative, one I have been close to most of my life.  Sadly, she does not believe that love exists.  When she first made a point of telling me so, many years ago, I was unable to understand her perspective. It was quite some time before I realized that her difficult, formative years were likely instrumental in creating this mindset.  The concept of love was subsequently at the core of an enormous disagreement between us, occurring just days before my son's death. Then a few months ago, she abruptly cut off all communication with me, without explanation.  I do not understand.  What I do know is that regardless of how our earthly relationship plays out this time around, we have a deep soul connection, and eventually, all will be revealed. In the meantime, one aha moment of mine was making this association: if one's mind is closed to the possibility of love's existence, it would be nearly impossible to recognize its presence. I continue to send her loving energy. Undoubtedly, her soul recognizes and embraces it.

The Mysterious Realm of Communication

My most recent evening at the ISA included a relaxing guided meditation, as well as a heartfelt message from my paternal grandfather, in German, of course.  About family, about love.  He spoke directly to me, no medium required, about the parent-child relationship and the various ways it has played out within our family over these past four generations.  Even though this man had died long before I was born, I instantly recognized his spirit and felt a deep connection as he shared his observations.  The ISA evening ended about a half-hour later than usual, and when I got in my car, the clock read 9:55.  After these sessions, I am usually home around 10 o'clock, and since it's about a thirty minute drive, I contemplated calling my husband to tell him not to wait up.  Then I thought about how exhausted he was and the strong possibly of him being asleep, so I decided against it.  When I arrived home, he was surprisingly still awake, and before I had a chance to tell him about my evening he told me about a strange incident that had occurred.  He had been watching TV in the den when he heard a beeping sound coming from elsewhere in the house.  As he approached the living room, he realized that the alarm was ringing on the clock in there.  We don't use the alarm feature and it had never spontaneously gone off - it had not even been touched recently.  He went on to say that it had happened at 9:55.  Obviously that had no significance for him until I explained what I had been doing at exactly that time.  For me, this was yet another new experience in the mysterious realm of communication.  Fascinating, for sure.

Growing Together

     Yesterday, I met up for lunch with my brother, my sole sibling.  It made my day.  We live an hour's drive apart and even though we see each other when our families get together a couple of times a year, meeting up for lunch is something my brother and I do every few months as well.  Just the two of us.  It was not always so.   

     In the early years we were close, sharing a bedroom and playing together most of the time.  We grew apart in our teens as we developed contrasting interests and hobbies -  not uncommon for a sister and brother.  As young adults busy raising families, we rarely saw each other outside of familial obligations such as Christmas and birthday dinners.  Misunderstandings, as well as taxing birth family dynamics, contributed to keeping us from wanting to connect outside of these events.  
     Then, life began throwing us opportunities to turn our relationship around.  The first noticeable shift began a decade ago, after our mother's death, when we occasionally began spending time together outside of the expected family get-togethers.  During that time, my teen-aged son began developing a deep bond with his adored uncle, which led to my brother and I connecting more often.  Four years ago, our relationship was further strengthened when we simultaneously became estranged from our father.  That was when our lunch dates became more regular.  We finally understood how much we mattered to each other.  Then, Michael's death occurred, which subsequently deepened the connection between my brother and me, to the point where we now check in with each other every couple of weeks.      
     My brother and I still have very different interests and hobbies.  Our lifestyles do not have much in common, either.  However, through facing our shared family challenges together, we have now arrived in a place where we do not take each other for granted, support each other in everything we do, and are fully aware that the other has our back - valuable gifts we have gained from our losses.  

The Power of Intention

Thankful for this week's occurrence of receiving nocturnal wisdom. Gaining understanding by way of clear, concise information.  Not dreaming.  No interpretation required.  Rather, having a sense of tapping into the universe's vault of knowledge.  Regarding my relationship with a loved one.  Where frustration had been building. Feeling confused on how to deal with it.  Deciding to take time for meditation.  Specifically, asking for clarity on achieving resolution. While sleeping later that night, fully experiencing the information, not just seeing it.  Finding myself placed in a frustrating situation.  Actually walking the path to unhappiness and dismay.  Then, being repositioned to the beginning of exactly the same scene.  However, this time taking steps along an alternate route.  Resulting in contentment and acceptance.  Immediately aware that the variable responsible for determining the outcome was the intention I was holding within.  In the first scenario, acting on the assumption that the outcome would be unsatisfactory and disappointing.  In the second, feeling optimistic that it was unfolding in a hopeful and loving way.  A powerful and timely reminder that how I experience something is simply up to me. 
  

The Illusion of Secrets

Attending a Celebration of Life for a fond old family friend a few days ago.  Passing after eight decades here on earth.  A man who had been part of my life since early childhood.  His family, my family and a third one spending so much time with each other.  Three newlywed couples immigrating to Canada as young adults.  Embarking on new lives here. Soon raising children together.  Resulting in three families closely intertwined.  Picnics, camping trips, sleepovers, house parties, and holidays together.  Then abruptly, eleven years later, contact ceasing between our family and the third one.  No longer allowed to play with their daughter.  Severing the relationship between our brothers as well. Confusing times.  No one explaining why.  Then decades later, experiencing a powerful vision while napping on the couch.  Shedding light on what had transpired.  Mentioning it to my mother.  She confirming the details.  Giving her an opportunity to share the hurt still felt by that betrayal.  Adultery.  A painful family secret revealed.  Now running into my former playmate at the service.  Seeing each other again for the first time in forty-four years.  Discussing the situation of broken ties.  She only now learning of the reason why.  The ripple affect of the choices made by those two individuals long ago still reverberating in the universe.  For any number of reasons, neither accepting full responsibility for those actions in this lifetime.  Perhaps caught up in the mighty illusion of secrets.  Obliging them to carry the weight of those decisions into subsequent incarnations.

Unique Journey

In discussion with other parents experiencing the loss of a child.  One mother mentioning something most can identify with.  Likely our biggest common denominator.  "The most important rule in life got broken."  Outliving ones child.  All of us branching out from there.  So many aspects influencing this journey of grieving.  Just as with any huge life altering experience.  The age of the child.  How she died.  The quality of life he was having.  The nature of the parent child relationship.  Family dynamics.  Personality traits.  Spiritual beliefs or the lack thereof.  Personal challenges the parent was facing in addition to this death.  Degree of available resources and support.  A unique journey for each one of us.  No two paths exactly alike.

Focusing on the Good

Fascinating really.  This natural tendency to focus on the good. Thinking often about the happy and positive memories of our years together as mother and son.  Not dwelling on the challenging and difficult times of the later years.  Of which there were many.  Those remaining very much in the background.  Perhaps due to the nature of the relationship now.  Back to connecting purely spirit to spirit.  No ego involved. 

Amusing Delivery

Sorting through the day's mail.  Coming across an oversized envelope addressed to my son.  Mike Gibson.  Tearing it open.  Discovering a Tiffany & Co. holiday catalogue inside.  From the famous jewellery store.  Chuckling to myself.  Unable to recall ever receiving one addressed to our home.  Flipping through pages adorned with images of pricey gift items.  Set against the renowned robin egg blue background. Wondering about his name being included on this mailing list. Thinking about his nature, even as a young child.  Very much a romantic.  This booklet perhaps connected to the level their relationship had progressed to around Valentine's Day this year.  Never knowing. Only imagining.  Finding it quite amusing.

Love Letters

Sunday mornings.  Time for our weekly love letters.  Most weeks, but not all.  My husband and I taking turns posing one question to answer separately.  Sometimes emotional topics leading to heartfelt discussion. "What do I like most about our marriage and why?" or "What is the nicest thing you've done for me this week and how do I feel about that?". Often in the more quirky realm.  "If you were a bird, what kind would you be and why?" or "What was your favourite comfort food as a child and how did it make you feel?".  Writing for ten minutes max. Exchanging our answers.  Reading through each other's letters twice before commenting.  Spending a few minutes sharing our thoughts on what we have discovered.  Continuing to reveal something of our essence to each other.  Each and every time.  Often to ourselves as well. Committing to this activity fourteen years ago after attending a workshop together.  One I was directed to in my sleep.  The name of it spelled out in large white capital letters many times over the course of the night.  All these years and hundreds of letters later.  Helping this relationship stay fresh and alive.

Eight Months and Thirty Years

A morning filled with intense emotions.  The highs and lows of motherhood swirling within.  Today marking thirty years of being a mother.  Reflecting on how astonishing it feels to have a daughter this old.  Appreciating the good fortune of being able to share my life with her.  Valuing our loving relationship.  So proud of the woman she is. Simultaneously, recognizing it was Monday morning eight months ago today when my son left this world.  The feelings of grief understandably heightened.  Powerful emotions stemming from these two extreme experiences.  Coexisting.  Realizing love is at the core of it all.

Lasting Friendships

A walk along the seawall this morning with a friend of forty years.   Time to catch up on each other's lives.  A daily occurrence in junior high.  Less frequent during college and university life.  As young wives and working mothers, a couple of times a year.  More often now.  Our life philosophies may be different, daily routines unalike, and our neighbourhoods further apart.  It is the similarities however, that have kept us connected.  Married over thirty years.  Mothering three children.  Navigating family dynamics.  We both know what is involved.  The two of us valuing this relationship and making the effort to stay in touch a few times a year, every year.  Lasting friendships.  Priceless.

Father's Day

As I reflect upon this upcoming Father's Day, many thoughts come flooding in.  Gratitude for the challenging relationship between my father and I which has enabled me to learn so much.  Loving him but choosing not to spend time with him.  Our karma.  As for my husband, he and his father of 87 years keep in touch regularly, and will celebrate their relationship with a shared meal tonight.  The space that was filled with Michael will loom large as one father sits with his only son, who in turn is enduring the loss of his only son.  Sunday, golf and a BBQ where my husband will be showered with love from his living children.  Different fathers, different experiences.  All receiving love.

Relationship Contracts

Under sunny skies, I took to the Nature's Trust Reserve trails up near the cabin.  The sweet smell of sagebrush, magnificent views of rolling hills, and the sounds of various bird songs, all contributed to feeling peaceful and serene.  As the dog and I wandered, so did my mind.  I thought about four key relationships I have been engaged in during this lifetime.  It is here where I have been challenged at the deepest level and encouraged to grow.  The first one that came to mind was my relationship with Self.  Being diagnosed with cancer all those years ago, tackling that, and then choosing what to take from it was life changing.  In my Daughter/Father relationship, I was presented with various opportunities for growth, with perhaps still more to come.  Within my Spousal relationship of thirty one years I have been granted numerous occasions for learning.  Finally, there was my Mother/Son relationship which currently consumes most of my thoughts.  It was filled with great joy but also many trying times and intense experiences.  Before I reincarnated, I had made a contract with myself and with each of these souls, to challenge ourselves and each other.  I am thankful that we are honouring these very demanding contracts in order to gain the greatest learning, and I am certain that there is still work to do, otherwise I would not still be here.  

We Choose Our Parents

The first time I heard the concept "We Choose our Parents", was when I was in my early twenties. I remember being very confused by it at the time but it stuck with me and over the years I slowly began to comprehend and know that it was so. As I struggled to understand the challenging relationship I had with my father, it helped immensely when I was finally able to see that he was absolutely the right father for me and that I had learned so much from him. By acknowledging that I had chosen him to be my father, it allowed me to feel grateful and know that without him, I would not be the person I am today. As a parent myself, this understanding is a great comfort to me - knowing that my children came into this world choosing me to be their mother and that our relationship was chosen in order to continue challenging us to be the greatest version of ourselves.